You Set Me Free: Reborn
by Graceful-Kuja
Summary: Sora, a Romani Gypsy, was born under a cerulean sky, but what happens when a performance brought her to Kuja's attention? Will he clip this free bird's wings so she can never fly again, or can she change his evil ways forever? Kuja/OC Rated T for now, may change to M later. You Set Me Free Rewrite.
1. Prologue to Obsession

_**A/N: Just so we all know; I'm totally not promising the world's fastest updates. I'm a college student and a lazy bum. Old readers know that already, new ones will become frustrated and find out.**_

_**I mentioned in the author's note that I forgot the ending. I wasn't kidding. It was there one day and the next it was gone. Hahaha, I'm lame.**_

_**I DO NOT OWN FINAL FANTASY BUT I CAN WISH! The Gypsies are totally mine though.**_

_**PROLOGUE: ANGEL TEARS**_

_**No Lyrics Available**_

_**~ Angel Tears ~ Adrian Von Ziegler ~**_

_**Boom. Boom-Boom. Boom. Boom-Boom.**_

The music was haunting, chilling one to their very bones. Drums were pounded in a slow, steady beat, bamboo flutes a reminisce of wind and tambourines shook, mocking leaves in a tempest. The audience consisted of the nobles of Alexandria, the peasants and the usual low-life scum. The Romani Gypsies were well known for drawing people of all sorts to see dances performed by exotic beauties, fortunes revealed by hideous hags, and items sold by cunning merchants. The performers were tramps and thieves, but they were adored by the life they could bring to a simple dance. It was never the same twice, and the silver-haired Kuja could vouch for this fact.

He was a man who cherished a stunning theatrical performance, always searching ruthlessly for flaws in others as they acted out their parts, and often found what he desired, but the Gypsies never ceased to amaze him, and the Queen Brahne of Alexandria, who was so easily amused by such shows, even had a throne constructed so that she may watch them comfortably when they came to the town's square. As of now, the dancers, who all looked similar with their deliciously tanned skin, and pin-straight hair tied into ponytails, danced slowly around something covered with a red velvet cloth in the center of the circle they formed. He was intrigued, to say the least. Never before had he seen the band of riff-raffs use such a large prop. A woman glided to the cloth, grasping it and yanked it away to reveal it to be a statue of a young woman, forever trapped in dance.

"This one is starting so slowly." Brahne commented dryly, earning a silent glare from Kuja.

As if hearing her words, the statue suddenly exploded into a bright light, earning many screams from the crowd, but near instantly, it was faded. The dancers now groveled at the feet of a young woman, who stood serenely, a red rose bud in a sea of pastel colors. Her skin was pale and the color of creme, her hair wild, untamed, and the color of burnt sienna. Her clothing was similar to the other Gypsies, a red cloth wrapped tightly around her breasts, and billowing red pants, though unlike the others, long strands of cloth hung from her waistband, golden bells at the end of each one, so that every move she made rang true. Her slippers were simple, black, and curled at the toe in her tribe's traditional style, and unlike the other members of her clan, she wore very little jewelery, just plain, golden bangles on her ankles and wrists.

She took a step forward, her hand opening to release a golden powder that was drawn up in a sudden wind, and scattered over every dancer's head. They began to move once more, as if revitalized from a petrifying nightmare, the music suddenly becoming more upbeat, much to Brahne's pleasure, as she began to bounce in her seat. Kuja did his best to ignored the woman, doing so by slinking back, into the gathering crowd, disappearing into the crowd, and using his magic, he appeared once more on a building overlooking the square, settling himself on the edge. By now, the young woman was dancer herself, twirling and dipping with such beauty and grace that most talking in the crowd had silenced.

He felt himself become entranced.

After a few minutes, the music slowed once more, and the other dancers froze in place, but the woman carried on, jumping at an impressive height, twirling twice in the air, her arms stretched out like wings. She landed on the the ground, crumpling into herself as she began to sob, and her sorrowful voice filled the air, singing a painfully melodious song. Her voice was filled with natural vibrato, carrying each note sweetly in her native tongue. None knew what she was saying, but her voice carried a story by itself as the dancers suddenly converged, forming what appeared to be stairs with their hands. Shakily, she stood, moving towards them, and ascended, slowly, her hands reaching for the sky, trying to grasp the sun in her hands, but failed, and Upon reaching the top, she held a note for a breathtaking moment, before she was stone once more, falling into the waiting arms of her fellows.

The crowd was silent for a long minute, the sounds of women and children crying woefully, before the applause roared through the air.

Kuja added his clapping to the mix, but he could feel something stir deep within him as he focused his eyes on the woman, who was once more human, smiling and bowing for the crowd that threw forth Gil. He watched her every move, drinking it all in, a thin smile gracing his lips as magic glowed at his fingertips. A silver rose formed in his hand, and silently, he formulated another spell deep within the aromatic petals, a plan already formulating in his mind as he cast the flower forward, guiding it to her with magic.

He wanted to hear more songs.

He wanted her voice.

He wanted _her_.

She would be his to command.

She would sing and dance at his whim.

She would wait patiently on him as a pet would.

She would be his pet.

This young dancer would devote her very soul to him.

Kuja could just barely hold back his excited laughter as the rose landed neatly on the crown of her head.


	2. Fatal Lullaby

_**A/N: Just so we all know, this is NOT going to be the exact same thing as the original. Some things will be similar, but a lot of things will be different. If anybody has any questions, give me a holler and I'll try to clear things out, unless you're asking me what happens next. Then I'll probably ignore you, haha.**_

_**I don't own much, save for Sora and her band of misfits. Steal what I make claim on and meet a boot to the face. D:**_

_**CHAPTER ONE: FATAL LULLABY**_

_**No Lyrics Available**_

_**~ Fatal Lullaby ~ Adrian Von Ziegler ~**_

Sora wanted to rip her hair out of her scalp; it was so frustrating! Not only was she the lone Romani Gypsy to have fair skin, but she was also the only one with such a wild mess of curling, waving, and knotting red-brown hair! She stuck out like a sore thumb, and things were _always_ getting caught in her stupid locks! Like now! She could just see it now; her hair wrapping around the flower like a snake does prey. And in front of such a large crowd of people – was that the Queen? How embarrassing! Oh she just wanted to melt.

"I think I'm due for a haircut..." She muttered quietly, maneuvering herself to the wagons containing the clan's luggage while trying to pluck the flower free, "I didn't see who tossed me – Ow!"

Abandoning her efforts, the dancer drew her hand to her chest, clutching her now bleeding finger, turning slightly on her heel. It stung slightly, as blood flowed from her fingertip, but her slightly annoyed expression disappeared as she watched it, her eyes becoming hazy, her mind coming up blank. She tilted her head upwards slightly, moving slowly as though she was in a trance, and she found herself staring into a pair of distant, cerulean orbs. They twinkled mischievously, as if beckoning her to come closer, to come play. She wanted to obey, stepping forward, her hand lifting as if she could touch the orbs.

But her wrist was grasped, snapping her back to her senses.

"Planning to go off adventuring again?" An elderly voice questioned, making her smile, turning to face the woman with graying hair and twinkling brown eyes, "Why! You have a flower stuck in your hair!"

"Yes, Grandmama, I know." She bent over so the woman could reach it enough to untangle it, "I wish I could be like the others. Their hair is perfect."

"Do you not enjoy being a unique Gypsy? It makes you beautiful to be your own person, child." Her grandmother stated wisely, placing the rose in Sora's hands, "It is obvious somebody admires your beauty to present you with such a token."

She brought the flower to her nose, breathing in the aromatic scent, her eyes once again lifted to the set of orbs, oddly shocked that they belonged to a man. His clothes, if you could call it that, were odd. He wore a white, jacket-like item that seemed to have black pauldrons on them, and elegant sleeves, and instead of pants, he wore a black codpiece, around his hips a cape-like cloth resembling his golden lined jacket held in place by black belts connecting to the codpiece, and his boots were made up of several black components, reaching his mid-thigh. She stared in awe at his beauty and grace, watching him stand from his perch on the side of the building, beckoning for her to follow as he backed away from the edge.

"Grandmama, I think I may explore the city." She tore her eyes away, making her best pleading face, "Alexandria has changed so much since our last visit. I want to see the new sights."

"This is sudden." Her Elder commented, "But I see no reason to say no, so long as you return by sundown."

She beamed, her grin wide and infectious as she hugged her grandmother tightly, "I will!"

"Don't forget your travel pack, and be _careful_. If you get lost -"

"'Find a Moogle. They are always willing to help. And if I'm lost near the time to come home, I should send a letter with the name of the inn I find to stay the night in.'" She recited, walking to the horse-drawn wagon and dove her arm inside, searching for her belongings, "I know. I've done this before."

"I'm only worried for you."

She pulled out a leather pouch, peeking inside before tying it to her waist, "I'll be fine. I'm almost an adult now. I can't be sheltered forever, you know."

Sora waved her goodbye, walking away at a normal pace, fiddling with the rose between her fingers, careful to not prick her fingers again, fighting the urge to look up at the building again. She had to at least make an effort to do as she told her grandmother so that she would not become a liar. If she walked around the marketplace, she would have told a 'mostly truth', therefore, it was no lie, right? If the man wanted her to go to him, he could wait if it was important enough.

As she walked along the nearly empty streets, she hopped over cracks, playing a makeshift game of hopscotch, lightly singing a beat that she could move to, "Do, a deer, a female deer, Re, a pocketful of sun, Me, a name, I call myself, Fa, a long, long way to go..." She pause, standing on one foot, the next part skipping through her mind as she tried to remember it, "So... A needle pulling thread! La, a note to follow So! Ti, a drink with milk and bread, and that brings. Us. Back. To. Do!"

She landed on both feet at the beginning of the shopping district, and prepared to walk inside, but felt her body jerk to a stop in mid-step, pivoting on her heels to face the other direction. Her face twisted in confusion as she tried to turn back around, but her balance faltered, wobbling as her legs were spread out awkwardly as she fought herself to go to the market. She nearly saved herself from falling by bringing her back leg forward, but the hope of standing properly was destroyed when somebody crashed into her back, sending her tumbling to the ground. Her senses tingled as she felt the people in the area stare at her predicament, making her face turn a heated red as she tried to gather herself, only to find that somebody was sprawled out on her back!

What rotten luck! Her day was just full of embarrassments!

"Ooooh, wow. Ow. That kinda hurt." She heard the person on her back groan, as they got off her, "You alright?"

She sat up, shaking her head, removing the curtain of hair from her face, and nearly squealed when she saw a pair of vivid blue eyes framed by uneven golden locks in front of her face, "Y-yes! I'm f-fine."

The blonde boy stood up straight, offering a glove clad hand to her, but she didn't accept it immediately, choosing to examine him first. He was rather short, appearing to be near her age (or so she guessed), wearing a sleeveless white shirt underneath a teal vest, with leather belts serving as accents, and a thin teal bow at his neck. His breeches were an ankle length, blue jodhpurs, or rather, riding trousers, held up by a belt with two daggers hanging from it, and tucked into cuffed, low heel boots. What caught her attention was the golden-furred tail swinging lazily behind him, a first she had seen in her many travels.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He questioned again, bringing her attention back to his face, as her cheeks burned red once more.

She accepted his hand, surprised at the amount of strength he had as he pulled her to her feet, quickly pulling her hand away, uncomfortable being touched by the opposite gender, "I, er, yes. I am fine." Her entire face turned the same bright red as her outfit, as she waved her hands around, trying to clear her sentence to an understandable level, "I-I lost my balance."

He gave her an amused look, "I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going, but I'm pretty glad I ran into you."

"Uhh, I-I'm sorry?" She wanted to dig herself a hole and die. Did he want to embarrass her in front of so many people? Was this some game?

"It's not often I get to see such a cute girl! Can I tempt you with some lunch as an apology?" He winked at her, and she covered her face with her hands, wondering how many shades of red she was turning, and only dared to look at him through her fingers.

"O-o-oh I don't know." She moaned. Why did she have to stutter when she was nervous, anxious or excited? "I-I don't know y-you, and you don't know m-me..."

"The name's Zidane Tribal." He proclaimed, "And your name?"

"Sora... Sora Le Romania-Dragonheart..." She whispered, lowering her hands when she felt like she was nearing a normal skin tone.

He took one of her hands, his lips grazing her knuckles as he gazed at her coyly, "Pretty name, for a pretty lady."

Sora found herself ripping her hand free, holding it close to her chest in shock, her breaths becoming heavy, panicked pants, and tears forming in her eyes. She didn't understand her sudden fear. This always happened. This _always_ happened! She couldn't bear it! She wanted to get away! It was as if his touch burned her skin, and she wanted to escape the pain; it was terrifying! Her mind screamed run, and her feet began to obey, but she paused, seeing her rose on the ground, and snatched it up before tearing past him, squeaking out a soft 'sorry' as she did.

"Wait! Where are you going?" She heard Zidane call out from behind her, but she pushed onwards, throwing herself into an alleyway, even though she heard him pursuing.

She jumped onto a pile of wooden crates, using them to propel herself to an ancient pipe connected to the side of a building, freezing when it shook perilously, continuing only when it stopped. She felt horrible, but she didn't like to be touched by men! It was frightful, not knowing what their intentions were. She had seen what they could do to trusting women; she had seen her fellow clanswomen return to camp in hysterics, their clothes tattered and their skin broken. She knew women who left for a stroll, only to be found days later, dead and violated. She feared that it could happen to herself someday, if she allowed herself to trust those that could make the horrors a reality.

A small childhood fear had bloomed into a phobia the older she got.

Grunting, she hauled herself onto the rooftop, panting as she peered over the edge, cringing when she saw Zidane down below, and he called up to her, "What's your problem, woman?!"

"I-I'm sorry!" She truly was. He seemed nice, but couldn't ignore her potent fears, "I-I can't, I just can't..."

Heaving herself up, she ran along the buildings, going wherever her feet carried her. The wind was refreshing against her flushed skin, and she lifted her chin so that it would hit her face better, taking comfort from the cool delight it brought her. The Romani Gypsies were children of nature, worshiping the Goddess of Harmony and reveled in the voices the world. It hurt her to know that there were such evil intentions in the world. If she could, she would take all the evil, and destroy it with her dancing, but that was impossible. She could only sing sing and dance to ease the troubles of others.

But she could not ease her own.

She fell, rolling into the fall, and just allowed herself to lay there, "I'm a stupid coward..."

"On the contrary, my dove, I thought that was very intelligent of you." She screamed, startled, curling into herself protecting her head with her arms, "Oh come now, that is plain rude of you."

She remained in her defensive position, but allowed herself to peer over her bicep, "I-I'm sorry..."

"I suppose it can be forgiven this once. It seems you're still full of adrenaline from your run, after all." The voice was so velvety and lulling, calming her tense body, easing her out of her defensive curl, "There there. That's a dear."

She looked up at the one who was speaking, gasping quietly when she saw that it was the silver haired man! "It's you! Did you throw me this rose?"

He held his hand to his mouth, as if to hide the chuckle she could hear, then he brushed some of his hair from his eyes, "Yes."

Scrambling to her feet, she held the out to him, averting her eyes to avoid staring, "I cannot accept this."

Arching a thin brow, the man placed a hand on his hip, "Why not?"

"A-a rose is a s-symbol of perfection to my people. I-I cannot accept this."

"I see no reason why. Your dance was superb."

She was tempted to grab his hand and force him to take it back, but she couldn't bring herself to do so, "You i-insult me. You carry much grace, yet y-you present me with this?"

He sighed heavily, reaching out to pluck the rose from her awaiting hand, but as if on purpose, his index finger glided against her palm as he pinched the stem between his fingers. Her heart jumped to her throat, and once more, she yanked her hand back, holding it to her chest. This time her middle and index fingers were bleeding rather heavily, and she could see that a thorn had broken off in her index finger; she hadn't let go of the rose when she jerked away. She gasped in pain, turning away from the man as she tried to stop the bleeding, trying to swallow her rising fear. Surely he touched her by accident?

"You should be more careful." He commented, moving to her side, and reached for her hand, "Let me see."

Sora stepped away from him, her voice becoming a harsh whisper, "Please don't touch me."

She missed the dark flash in his eyes, but he quickly covered it up when she looked at him pitifully, "Afraid to be touched?" He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve, offering it to her, and turned his head away, "Take this. I won't look, so I can't touch you knowingly. Use it to bandage yourself."

Eying him suspiciously, she cautiously reached out, quickly snatching it away, pressing it to her fingers, "Thank you..."

"I wish to discuss something with you." She nodded as she pulled the thorn free from her finger, applying pressure again, "I'm quite fond of the theater, and I was simply amazed by your performance. You have quite the voice."

Watching him from the corner of her eye, she watched him walk to the edge of the building, peering over the edge nonchalantly, "T-thank you. You flatter me..."

He turned back to her, clapping his hands together, "Oh but it is truth! And I should very much like to hear your voice more! So I must ask that you come with me."

Her eyes narrowed, and she automatically went to step back, stunned when she realized her body would not move to her command once again, "I-I don't u-understand!"

"You'll be taken care of quite well, my sweet Canary. You'll be fed well," He circled her, running a finger up her spine, making her become stiff, her breath become short, "You're much too bony. You'll wear only the finest silks," He tugged on the back of the cloth around her breasts, making her shudder fearfully and tears formed in her eyes, "This coarse drab is too poor for your delicate skin."

Sora tried to form words, but she couldn't bring herself to speak proper English, only being able to speak brokenly, and mostly in her native tongue. She tried to tell him to back away from her, to quit touching her, but all she received was a curious arch of the brow. Her arms lifted slightly, and after a few moments of fighting, she managed to force her hands to cover her face as though that would block out the man and his touches. She couldn't stand it. He needed to stop touching her, or she would explode from her terror. It was too much. It was too much.

_It was too much_.

As if somebody had slapped her, she burst away from the spot she seemed frozen to, knocking the man aside as she darted to the opposite side of the rooftop, panting, and wiping at her arms, as if that could remove the burning aftereffect of the fingertips gliding over her arms. She let out a distressed scream, her voice cracking with her tears as her wobbling legs gave out beneath her. She hated this. She _despised_ this. Who did he think he was? He talked to her as if he had found a stray dog! She was not a miserable cur that could be picked up by anyone wanting to own her! She was a Human! He couldn't say such things and expect her to comply!

"Enough of that, you'll draw attention."

He was close again! She needed to get away! She _had_ to get away!

Squealing, she tried to run, but his hand clamped down on her wrist, jerking her backwards, into his chest, where he encircled his arm around her, while his free hand covered her face, glowing a luminescent green blinding her, and silencing her struggles. She was still aware, able to see him, and feel him, and hear him. Her heart pounded in her throat. What was going to happen to her? What was he going to do to her? She would rather die than be violated and disgraced! She would kill herself before she allowed such horrors to happen!

Drawing forth as much strength as she could, she spat in his face, changing the once wide smirk into a darkened sneer, and she managed to slur out a single word before losing her consciousness.

"Pig."

Kuja's rage burned deep within, but he was not going to let it get under his skin.

He had captured his Canary, after all.

_**A/N: Alright, older readers will notice a major change in Sora's personality. She is actually scared shitless of being touched by the male gender. Yeah. I thought the old Sora was a bit too May-Sue, being pretty much fearless except for certain situations that would scare the crap outta anybody. Believe it or not, this is her original design, and I thought with this, I could make the story longer and better. MUCH FREAKING BETTER.**_

_**Next chapter will be more Kuja oriented, and should show some of Kuja's reasoning in suddenly wanting to kidnap random girls.**_

_**Maybe you've noticed at the beginning, there's the chapter number, then the name of the chapter, then there's lyrics (but so far none is available, haha). This is the story's playlist! I suggest listening to the songs, because they can provide atmosphere, but whatever, don't if you don't want to.**_

_**Tell me what you think!**_


	3. Be Prepared

_**A/N: I got a lot of complaints about the reviewing process when this story was posted as 'Change', so I deleted it, and re-posted it as something that would be obviously the remake. Thus, 'You Set Me Free: Reborn', was born. Haha, bad joke. **_**._.**

_**Seriously, sorry for being a pain in the ass. I try to be simple.**_

_**Now, I should like to point out that I will try to be as detailed and realistic as possible to real world kidnappings and the psychological effects on both the victims and the kidnappers, so some parts might be dark-evil-ish but I promise HAPPY endings! Maybe. It just may take awhile to get there. **_

_**By the way, as I mentioned in the last chapter, at the ending note, I have a music playlist all set up for this. With this chapter, I had no idea what song it should be, so I used the shuffle deal-y on Itunes. Thus, the chapter is now called 'Be Prepared'. I can totally see Kuja dancing around with the Black Mages singing the song.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**CHAPTER TWO: BE PREPARED**_

_**So prepare for the coup of the century  
Be prepared for the murkiest scam  
Meticulous planning  
Tenacity spanning  
Decades of denial  
Is simply why I'll  
Be king undisputed  
Respected, saluted  
And seen for the wonder I am  
Yes, my teeth and ambitions are bared  
Be prepared!**_

_**~ Be Prepared ~ The Lion King OST ~**_

Kuja wanted to kick himself.

He had acted merely on impulse when he snatched the young dancer, Sora Le Romania-Dragonheart, as she had introduced herself to that stupid monkey-boy. Knowing the nature of the Romani Clan, they could have very well left that day if he had not acted, and he would have lost his best chance at whisking her away. Had he the time to plan, he would have her quarters ready, clothes tailored, and a feast ready. He would have followed her, watched her to discover her likes and dislikes; he would have made everything perfect for her arrival. He may have even taken the time to woo her enough that she would willingly follow him to Hell and back.

It would take longer, but he had no doubts that she would soon love him as a pet should. He was rescuing her from a life of poverty, so why should she not love him? She was obviously on the verge of starvation, as one could see her bones, though only barely. And was certainly not fond of her color of choice when it came to her outfit. While the clothing style itself was perfect, revealing just enough skin to arouse interest from any sensible male, the material and color was simply horrendous. She would look far more lovely in pale purples and blues, or even greens.

From what he had observed thus far, she obviously loathed her own looks, from the color of her skin to the way her hair grew, preferring the same monotonous look her clan shared. Personally, he thought she was a breath of fresh air. The women of Gaia seemed too preoccupied with their looks, while Sora wish hers were the same as others, it was obvious she knew that it was not the main aspect of her life and did not dwell on the thought for long. Her dancing skills made up for any imperfections in her unique form of beauty.

The only true thing that bothered him about her was her irrational fear of the male gender. It had literately paralyzed her when he stroked her spine, and grazed her arms. She instantly became a stuttering fool who could not speak a proper sentence, trembling and crying as though he was traumatizing her. He had laughed at first, when she ran from the boy, but now that she was panicking about her soon-to-be master, well, the situation seemed more dire. How was he to fix such a phobia?

The girl stirred, bringing him to the present, lifting his eyes from the book he held in his hands, turning away from the towering bookshelf to eye her carefully. The moment they had entered his Desert Palace, he had brought her to his library, and placed her in one of the many overstuffed chairs surrounding a maple wood table until further preparations were made. He was actually quite excited to see her reaction to the delightful surprise that awaited her. Would she scream and cry once more? Would she be touched that one of finer ranks such as himself would extend to her such kindness? Would she remain silent and accept it without protest? Would she become angry and lash out? He was curious to know.

He tore his eyes away from her, returning his attention to the book in his hands, "All in due time."

Sora, on the other hand, was terrified. She had just awoke moments before, feeling the burning sensation of eyes on her the second she had moved in the slightest. It was as if he was expecting her to wake any minute now, and was merely waiting it out with barely contained impatience. She wished she never woke, that the Gods had graciously allowed her to die as she was dragged to where she was now; where this was, she feared she may never know. Whatever the man, that ungodly, beautiful man, had planned for her, it was certain to be an absolute disgrace to her honor. He had mentioned something about wanting to hear her voice more, but she was almost sure that it was a lie. She need to escape before his true intentions were revealed.

But he was a magic user! She was quite familiar with the paralysis technique he used on her, before he had cast a Sleep Spell upon her. Her fellow dancers often used the technique to freeze their bodies at impossible angles when necessary. She herself never managed to successfully use any form of magic, but if she could spot the warning signs of a Spellcaster, a Mage, she could place herself on high alert, and on the defensive. She could only think of a single, immediate cure to her situation, slowly forcing herself to open her eyes in a sleepy manner. She couldn't allow anymore dishonor to her family's name, nor to her clan.

"Ah! Turtledove!" Kuja snapped his book shut, tossing it carelessly aside, mindless of where it landed, and moved towards her. She was on her feet quickly, putting the circle of chairs between them, "Why must you be so defensive? I mean you no harm, unless you are disobedient."

Swallowing thickly, she forced her body into a calmer state of mind, the subtle rise in panic making her anxious, but she would not allow herself to show more fear, "I don't understand."

"You see, I was not thorough in my explanation yesterday." He could see the cogs in her mind, going into overdrive to keep from acting on her rising fear, "I brought you here to my palace. Far from the rest of the world, secluded," He ran a finger along the tops of the chairs as he walked, attempting to go to her, but she mirrored his moves, keeping on the opposite side, "Hidden. I only have a single request of you, and if you comply, your life here will be most pleasant."

"And if I don't?" She examined the room, seeing a single window, and a single door in the room of books, "You will force what you want?"

"Precisely. I do suggest the happy alternative, for my methods can be most..." He rubbed his forefinger and thumb together thoughtfully, "Persuasive."

"Your request?"

Kuja stopped walking, placing himself in front of the very door she was eying, "Your loyalty. I shall be your master, and you shall be my pet."

Sora could feel a hysteric laugh bubble up, "I have no desire to claim any my master, save for the winds of freedom."

He nodded thoughtfully, "Poetic, I suppose. But altogether, they are meaningless words. You have no choice in the matter."

Her face contorted in pure dismay, and she drew her hands to her chest, turning her back to him – foolish! He shot forward, using a burst of magic to increase his speed, and landed next to her, preparing to place a hand on her shoulder to subdue her. She was too simple minded, allowing herself to leave her flank open for an attack from an enemy as she considered him? How naïve of -

The cold feel of steel against his abdomen made him laugh.

"I-I won't stand for this. Return me to my people."

Lifting his hands so that she could see them, he curiously stared at the dagger she held to him, "Wherever did you hide that, my sweet?"

"M-my belt. I-I'll kill y-you if you d-don't take me home." She stammered, pressing it to his gut a bit more sharply, but he could feel the blade tremble as her shaking hands tried to hold it firm.

He could see the terrified look in her eyes.

Her soul was far to gentle.

"Why must we resort to violence?" He sighed dramatically, and let his hand fall on top of hers, and as expected, she jerked away, but much to her surprise, the blade slid out of her grasp as she did, hovering in the air, "You could not harm a fly, could you?"

She clenched her fists tightly, ignoring the pain in her cut hand as she backed away, "I-I want n-nothing to do with y-you."

Tossing the blade aside, he could feel his lips curve upwards; oh how he enjoyed her game of mock bravery! "My dear, sweet Gypsy, I only ask for your word to obey my every command, in return for everything you could ever want."

"Your commands would be what? Clean after you and cook for you? I am no slave."

"If I should desire you to do so. You will bend to my every whim." His eyes flashed dark, and he repeated the last three words with more emphasis, "My _every_ whim."

Sora could feel the sobs claw out of her chest as her lips shook and cheeks flushed, shaking her head as he moved closer. Her heart was pounding away in her throat, and she felt her rump hit the bookcase behind her, placing her hands behind her for support as he drew closer, his pace painstakingly slow. She couldn't kill him. She was a weak, weak coward, unable to do what was required to get to safety. To return to her family. The only thing she could do was stammer like an idiot and freeze at his touch. Her cowardice would be the end of her.

"Be a doll and just say yes." He coaxed, stopping several feet away.

Closing her eyes, she began to pant and speak rapidly, her distress reaching its peak, "_**Toate ființele umane se nasc libere și egale în demnitate și în drepturi. Ele sunt înzestrate cu rațiune și conștiință și trebuie să se comporte unele față de altele în spiritul fraternității.**___*"

She had repeated the phrase several times as he edged close enough to cup her face in his hand, "And these words mean what to me?"

The girl became rigid her eyes locking on him, wide and full of unfiltered fears and tears, "I-I refuse."

He barely saw her right fist as it collided with his cheek, making him stumble back, though more in shock than in pain. She shoved him harshly, forcing him back even more, and ran for the discarded dagger, lunging for it. With a growl, he whirled, thrusting out his palm and quickly closed his hand, releasing a burst of energy from his body to capture her in mid-air. In turn, she began to writhe, fighting to free herself from the spell that kept her hovering just out of reach of her weapon, becoming more and more desperate by the second.

"That was stupid of you to do, my pet!" Kuja hissed through clenched teeth, rubbing his jaw with his free hand, "It will not go unpunished."

Sora grasped a book laying on a table that was barely in her reach, and hurled it in his direction, followed quickly by several others, "Bastard!" She screeched, her eyes becoming livid as she tried to get free, panic surging through her veins, "Filthy pig! You have no right! You have no right to do this!"

"It _is_ my right, you stupid wench!" He snarled, "You should claim me as your God! I am a being of perfection that deserves worship!"

"You're nothing but a pitiful man, if one could call you such!" She screamed back, now out of things to throw. "_**Toate ființele umane se nasc libere și egale în demnitate și în drepturi. Ele sunt înzestrate cu **__**rațiune și conștiință și trebuie să se comporte unele față de altele în spiritul fraternității**_!"

"_**ENOUGH**_!" Kuja roared out, his hand whipping out and striking her across the cheek, and he forced enough of his magic into her to constrict her breathing, forcing her to fall silent, "I will not have a peasant such as yourself belittle me! You will learn to respect and obey your master, or else you will suffer the consequences!"

He allowed her to drop painfully to the floor, watching her slowly grasp at her throat with her left hand, while she used her right to drag herself to her feet by using the oak wood desk she had landed by. Her body trembled with the effort, and she shoved several books off the desk as she leaned her body against it, followed by several papers. He could see sweat rolling down her back as she struggled to draw breaths, then watched her lower her hand from her throat when she turned to face him.

He did not like the hardened look in her eyes.

As if in slow motion, Kuja could see the first tears fall from her eyes, while her right hand seemed to magically appear at her neck, the glint of a ruby-encrusted letter opener clutched tightly in her grip. He was stunned, unable to move as she drug the item forcefully across her throat, a thin, red line blooming in its wake. She cut herself from ear to ear, crying as she did, and in mere seconds, the thin line of red became a spluttering artery, spewing her life's blood. He couldn't bring himself to move due to the shock, horror filling his face, at least, not until she fell to the floor, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she near instantly lost all forms of consciousness.

Her lips smiled victoriously at him momentarily, before she succumbed into darkness.

He moved into action, an orb of magic wrapping around her throat, blocking anymore blood from escaping as he cursed loudly. His first concern was to stop the blood flow, then force the lost blood back into her body to avoid finding another method of replenishing her blood's supply. A river of spells roared through his mind, as he tried to quickly sort through them to find the proper ones. He couldn't get this wrong! How could she do such a thing? Did she truly value her freedom more than her life? What a foolish girl!

Though, he himself was a fool. The Romani Gypsies were well know for their strong beliefs, many stories being spread around of them taking their lives for the sake of honor and religion. He had assumed that since she was obviously young, no older than eighteen from his guesses, that she would hold some value upon her life, but perhaps that was more of a reason to be cautious. He wondered if she tried to plot an escape at all, before she tried to kill herself. They were many ways she could have done so. She could have pretended to comply with his wishes. She could have truly killed him. She could have refused to talk, neither agreeing nor diagreeing.

But she acted imediately upon seeing the letter opener, slicing her own throat without hesitation.

Oh, he would be sure that she lived.

She _would_ become his slave.

He _would_ be her master.

The Gypsy was an idiot to think that she had escaped his wrath.

"Sora Le Romania-Dragonheart..." He could feel his lips curl into a sneer, as he poured magic into her throat, watching the pool of blood recede and the wound stitch itself closed, "I, Kuja, hold the shears to clip your wings of freedom, my Cardinal."

She **_would_**_ love_ him.

_**A/N: I DO NOT SUPPORT ATTEMPTS AT SUICIDE FOR ANY REASON. IF YOU ARE FEELING SUICIDAL, OUT OF ANGER, DESPERATION OR DEPRESSION OR WHATEVER ELSE, THEN CONTACT A SUICIDE HOTLINE, CLOSE FRIEND, FAMILY MEMBER. HECK, SEND ME A MESSAGE, AND I'LL DO WHAT I CAN TO HELP. JUSTGET SOME FORM OF HELP. THERE ARE ALWAYS PEOPLE WHO LOVE YOU, EVEN IF YOU DON'T KNOW IT. SUICIDE ISN'T THE ONLY OPTION, EVEN IF IT FEELS LIKE IT.**_

_***Translation: All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood. **_

___**(Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights)**_

_**This chapter may seem dark, but it totally isn't. It's to show things from mainly Kuja's point of view, and to give you all an idea as to what this version of Sora sees as strength and weaknesses. Ever seen a die-hard religious fanatic? Think of it like that. Willing to die for her beliefs and all that stuff. I don't condone that in real life, but hey, fiction isn't real life. **__**O3O**_

_**I'm just using Romanian for Sora's language, because I'm basing her people roughly off of the Lovari Romani, which are all over Hungary, Romania, Poland, France, Germany, Italy and Greece.**_

_**And I'm using Google Translate, so if there's a wrong translation, blame it, not me. :D**_


	4. Nails and Bones

_**A/N: So the first time I typed this chapter down, I went back and read it and saw the word 'large' in every other sentence. I could have made a drinking game out of it, there were so many.**_

_**WHAT THE HELL BRAIN? WHY YOU NO WORK RIGHT AND USE NEW WORDS? *Flips table***_

_**So I had to go fetch the thesaurus before I posted my monotonous writing to the public. And I couldn't find it. ANYWHERE. It took me a month of destroying and cleaning my room to realize my writing program had one built in. Fuuuuuuu...**_

_**Anyways; quick advertisement for Sorceress Myst before I get rolling, so bear with me! Or if you're somebody sent my way due to her advertising for me, then welcome! Thanks for checking me out!**_

_**Her story is called 'Nameless', and has a pretty interesting concept, so here's the summary:**_

**Kuja was a dangerous and powerful man- and I... was only a tool in his mad search for greater power. /A pre-FF9 Kuja centric story through the POV of an OC /No Romance intended **

**_It features a dancer OC too, so if that's your cup of tea, then go read it! It's pretty good! _:D**

**ALSO! GO TO MY PROFILE PAGE TO SEE FANART!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy!**

**Warnings: Violence, Blood, and Suicide Attempts. (Again, it is not something I approve of!)**

* * *

_**CHAPTER THREE: NAILS AND BONES**_

_**No Lyrics Available.**_

_**~ Nails and Bones ~ Adrian Von Ziegler ~**_

* * *

Sora knew the instant she became aware of her body that she had failed. She felt no pain; only stiffness in her neck and the warmth of sunlight on her skin. She didn't feel cold or weak, rather, she felt quite warm and energized. He had healed her. The stupid Bastard had healed her. He had stopped her from dying honorably, and was sure to force her through horrific acts. What would she have to suffer through? She dared not to think of the possibilities. She just needed to focus on a new form of escape. She needed... To... Focus...

She opened her eyes, frowning at the silver ceiling above her while furrowing her brows in confusion.

What was that beautiful sound?

Glancing around, she could feel herself wanting to scream in dismay; there were bars all around her, as she laid on the floor of a cage. It was large enough for her to lay sprawl out on her back with plenty of room to spare, and the bars looked like she could get a leg through, but she wasn't so sure about the rest of her body. The cage itself was suspended in the air by chains, or she assumed, hanging a few feet above the ground within some form of... Bedroom?

Before her, there was a ample four poster bed with bedding of midnight blue, the drapes left open around it. To its side, there was nightstand, covered in books for nighttime reading and a redwood wardrobe stood tall on the opposite side of the bed. To her right, there was a set of hulking, wooden doors locked tightly up, and she noted that the first chance that she got should be used to test the weight of the door to see if she could move it on her own. To her left was the source of the resonating sounds of a melody, and she could only grimace at the creator of the melodious music. Before a set of glass balcony doors, there was some form of sizable, black instrument that resembled an oddly shaped and over-sized table, but its top was propped open by a stick. Seated on a black, cushioned bench, was her captor, whose hands moved elegantly across ivory keys, his eyes closed as he performed.

She wondered what the black instrument was for a moment, but turned her head the opposite direction and forced herself not to care. Instead, she noticed a chain that was welded to the ground beside her head, she sat up to examine the purpose of it, only to find a heavy weight around her neck. Slowly and with a shaky hand, she reached up, feeling the thickness of a leather collar, and then she gripped the connecting chain, testing to see if it was secure. With the clinking of the metal links, the music stopped abruptly and her shoulders instantly tensed as she sensed eyes on her. Turning her head, she met the china blue gaze of the silver-haired man with the burning glare of her red-brown eyes, trying to muster up as much hostility as possible in an attempt to intimidate him into staying away from her.

Much to her distaste, he stood quickly, and approached her with a cheerful, yet mocking greeting, "Good morning, my dear Canary! I did not expect you to wake so soon after your untimely brush with death." He stopped a few feet away from the cage, and covered his mouth with the back of his hand to hide a smirk, "I hope you slept well."

She curled her lips back in a sneer, and scooted as far away from him as she could get, "It would have been better if I didn't wake."

"You should greet your precious Master Kuja more pleasantly." He taunted, wagging a finger at her, "Or we may never get along."

Sora kept her lips in a frown, and spat out, "I have no intention of ever 'getting along' with you, _Kuja_."

"And I thought you were supposed to be of a peaceful group." He dramatically sighed, "Not even an ounce of gratitude for saving your life..."

"I will be grateful if you kill me." She snarled back.

Anger flashed in his eyes, "You... You are an idiot. How dare you put so little value upon your life! Do you have any idea what a bother you have been to me? Are you too stupid to try to think of another route of escape before ending your life in the name of your so-called freedom? Did you even stop to think for a second that perhaps _patience_ would have aided in-" He stopped himself before he gave her any ideas, and smoothed out his hair and clothing as if to rid himself of anger, "I see that I have to work on converting your ideals, if you are to enjoy being here."

She snorted, and drew her knees up to her chest as he moved closer to the cage, "I'll never enjoy being here."

"I must admit that I think otherwise." Kuja circled the cage in an attempt to get closer to her, but she was on the opposite side in an instant, "Imagine yourself as a precious little bird with un-clipped wings. I just obtained you, and all birds are wary of their owners at first. With time, you will become settled and accept me in due time, and that is when your wings shall be properly clipped."

She stood to her feet, grasping the chain in her hands and slammed it against the bars where he stood, "Pig-headed idiot! I will _never_ accept you!" She moved to sling the chain at the bars again, but he caught it in the process, and yanked her off her feet, dragging her closer to him, "N-no! No, no no, _no_! L-let... Let me go!"

She struggled as he tried to jerk her forward, latching her hands onto the bars and tried to pull herself in the other direction. The leather collar on her neck tightened against her windpipe, and she made a choking sound, trying to twist her head so that the back of her neck would be receiving the pressure instead, but failed miserably. She allowed one of her hands to let go of bar, tugging on the collar to try and give herself a chance to breath, but the lone hand holding the bars quickly slipped off against the strength of her captor. Screaming shrilly, she tried to dig her nails into the metal floor of the cage, resulting in a high pitched screeching as her nails succeeded in scraping the surface. Shavings of metal curled beneath her fingertips, and she cried in pain as she felt several of her fingernails bend and break off as a result.

Kuja, on the other hand, was cringing at the sound, having heard it several times throughout his 'childhood' as a nails-on-chalkboard form of getting his attention.

When she got close enough, he grasped her ankle, flipping her body over so she would stop the God-awful sound, only to find that she was now crying, her bloody fingertips clasped at her chest, "Oh, you poor idiot. Come here and let me see."

"N-no!" She kicked at him, rolling back onto her stomach in an attempt to get away, leaving bloody smears everywhere, which made him purse his lips in disapproval. Had she no common sense? She was only hurting herself the more she struggled. "J-just leave me a-alone!"

Feeling his patience on the verge of snapping, the feminine man rubbed his forehead with one hand, and flicked the other through the air, forcing her body to be shoved towards him through his magic. Once she was close enough, he grabbed her throat, silencing her cries and struggles with a single movement. She couldn't help stare into his glaring eyes, and it was suddenly like something was crushing her from the inside out. Her lungs constricted painfully, halting her breathing, and her quivering body felt as though the ground was going to open up and swallow her whole. Tears quickly formed, spilling down her cheeks and onto his hands, while her eyes rolled into the back of her head against her will. She desperately wanted to lift her hands to claw at his wrist, but it felt as though something was pinning them down – was it her fear of men, or something else?

_What's happening to me?!_ Her mind screamed at her. _Fight it! FIGHT IT!_

"Is this what you want?" Kuja demanded suddenly, dropping his hand from her throat, and she dropped to the floor of her cage, but she could still feel the life being choked out of her. She struggled to push herself upright, and began to scratch at the collar, hoping that if she could remove the item, she would breathe properly again. "You seem rather ungrateful for one who was begging to die moments ago. Look; you are fighting it."

The moment he said that, she stopped moving and she simply stared at the roof of her cage. After a moment or two, he saw that her lips were moving, and he leaned closer to hear her raspy whisper.

"Thank you."

Realizing that he actually _was_ killing her, Kuja removed the effects of the spell, making her sigh in exasperation and he echoed the sound bitterly, "Why not comply? If you were loyal to me, you could wander my palace freely, and I would allow you to see your family."

He waited patiently for her to draw enough air into her lungs to speak without sounding awful, but there was still a coarse rasp to her voice, "I have disgraced my name by failing to die with honor. I couldn't bring more dishonor to my family." He watched her roll onto her stomach, her deep, red-brown eyes begging him silently as pitiful tears spilled down her reddened cheeks, "Why can you not see that I want to go home?"

A lump formed in his throat and before he could blink, his hand was reaching out to wipe away the tears. She flinched back, but she didn't move completely out of reach, so his fingertips grazed her jawbone, making her eyes change from miserable to terrified in mere seconds. How could a girl such as herself be so terrified of a man? She revealed that she had a fiery bravery deep inside her, but the moment she gets touched, she becomes a simpering coward. Her shuddering form hunkered before him, and looking into her large eyes, he almost felt pity for her as he ran his thumb over her chapped lips. Perhaps she would be more compliant if he allowed her to explore the palace under the supervision of his Black Mages? If he left her alone until she was comfortable with her new home, then surely she would grow out of her fear towards him

But that thought quickly ended when the Gypsy bit him.

"Gyagh!" He cried, jerking his hand away from her and glared darkly, "You little wretch! How dare you bite me!"

She let out a chortle of laughter, her eyes no longer appearing defenseless and she spat out, "Shouldn't you expect that from a _pet_?"

"I expect that from a dog, not a bird!" He snapped irritably, storming towards the doors, "I've lost the patience to deal with you. Perhaps will enjoy your stay in solitude!"

She carefully watched the doors burst open with a flick of his hand and slam shut with the same motion, making it difficult for her to gauge the weight of them. His voice could be heard through the walls as he screamed orders at unfortunate servants – or so she assumed – and she couldn't help but feel relieved that she was now alone to think properly. Kuja had a presence that demanded attention, and trying to fend off his approaches required her complete focus. A single slip of the tongue and she would be at a disadvantage that was certain to be impossible to recover from. Why did he have to be so... Forceful. She had no desire to be here, and she would _never_ claim him as her master!

What sort of man desired to have a Romani girl kept as a bird? That was just demented! How could anyone deny freedom to another human being? She just couldn't wrap her head around it! The cruelty in the world never ceased to amaze her. Turning her attention to her bloody fingertips, she couldn't help but release a pain-stricken sob as she examined the damage done. Most of her fingernails were broken, or were completely torn off, allowing for blood to trickle slowly from the abused hands. On top of that, her right hand was still wounded from the thorn of the rose that had broken off in her palm when she had jerked away from Kuja. Was there going to be no end to her torment?

She eyed her wrist, pushing the golden bangle to the side so she could eye the vein that contrasted with her skin. There were still plenty of ways that she could kill herself to save what pride she had left, and if she moved quickly enough, she could chew through her wrist and bleed out before the jerk came back! Eager to get it over with, she lifted her wrist to her mouth and with a shaky breath, she sank her teeth into her skin. The second she managed to get her teeth to break her skin, an jolt of electricity engulfed her body, making her scream loudly and the force of the current knocked her onto her back. She convulsed and writhed in agony, and after a few seconds, the shock stopped, but she continued to squirm, trying to rid herself of the tiny zaps of static that coated her body.

What just happened?

Breathing heavily, she attempted to sit up, and a new, smaller shock at her neck made her flinch when she realized that it was the collar electrocuting her. Why did it do that? Why did that stupid man do this to her? What was the point of torturing her like this? Did it somehow know that she was going to chew through her wrist as an attempt to kill herself? Did he somehow predict that she would do that? What did it matter to him?! There were hundreds of girls that would no doubt be willing to go through this for him! Why couldn't he take one of them?!

The doors opened, and she looked up, seeing little creatures wearing blue coats and tall yellow caps waddling in, their faces hidden in darkness, while their eyes were a haunting, luminescent yellow. She slowly stood, gripping the bars tightly in case the cage swung with movement again, and blinked as they began to approach, one holding a tray with a neatly made sandwich and a metal mug full of water. What did they want from her? What were they? They stood before her, waiting patiently, until she sank back down, and slowly reached for a sandwich, but stopped herself, quickly withdrawing her arm.

If she couldn't kill herself quickly, then she would starve herself.

"Go away." Sora snapped, drawing her knees closer to her chest and turned her back on the creatures.

The sounds of the tray being slipped inside the cage made her frown, but they left before she could demand that they took it away. She saw the silver rose on the tray, and picked it up cautiously, a strand of her hair still caught on it from when it had stuck to her head, and suddenly, she felt the urge to go after Kuja again, dropping the flower. When it hit the floor of the cage, the urge was gone, so, with a suspicious glance, she lifted it again, the urge filling her once more. _It's enchanted,_ she thought, and furiously ripped out the petals, throwing them to the ground as she cut herself with the thorny stem once more, thrusting it to the ground also. Next she eyed the food, having no doubt that it too, was made to trick her into another trap, so she lifted it and threw it out of the cage with a crash, screeching with frustration that she had fallen for such a trick.

She should have stayed with her family! Now she was stuck in an awful situation with a stupid-feminine-man that wanted her to play Canary to his fiddle. Her luck couldn't possibly get worse.

"Turtledove! I just had a wonderful idea!" A voice sang as the doors to the room swung open again, "Oh. I see you are a messy little bird."

Sora banged her head against the bars of her cage, grumbling miserably, "I'm not a bird."

"And I can also see you tried to kill yourself again. You received quite a nasty shock for that, I'm sure."

"You want to try it out? I thought it was electrifying."

"Ah, sarcasm. Not so elegant." She watched as the man stepped closer to the cage, "A bit of training will curb that habit."

"You used it too."

"Yes, but I can execute it flawlessly. From you it merely sounds... Crude." He waved his hand dismissively.

She scooted towards the center of the cage to avoid being touched by him, "You said you had an idea. Did you realize that I don't want to be here and decided to let me go home?"

"Don't be stupid. Of course I'm not letting you go. My personal tailor just arrived, and I thought you would enjoy some new clothes." He gave her clothing a sour look, "It would be better than being in those rags."

"Excuse me if I'm not leaping for joy."

"I will assume that means you are pleased with the idea and will have Madame Tatiana come at once."

Of course her luck could get worse. Kuja was nearby.


End file.
